Standing On the Edge Of The Abyss Rescue Me
by Babyangel86
Summary: Slight spinoff of Female Trouble... tell me what you think and i might continue...COMPLETED
1. Staring at the Abyss

**i gotta say, i hatt warped ratings... i dont even understand them. its was so much easier when it was just plain old pg-13 and so on... oh well...**

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**I just gotta stay thanx to my beta sammi... she had this sorted in less than 24hrs... thanx, you da best.**

**Standing on the edge of the abyss… Rescue me….**

_Summary: Slight Spin-off of Female Trouble…_

I can feel it all around me, the darkness. It's suffocating, inescapable. I tried to fight it at first, tried to resist the temptation to let it enclose me in nothingness, swallowing me whole. I tried to resist the blissful numbness it enticed me with; I tried to fight. I can't win. It fights back, makes me question the reasons I'm fighting, asks me why I shouldn't give up. And now I realise… I have no reason to fight.

I sit here, trying to come up with reasons. I sit here, drawing blanks. I mean, what can I say?

**Eyes Only?** – They'll do fine without me, heck they'll do better than fine. It seems for every creep I take out two more seem more than willing to take his place. I'm fighting for a downtrodden that doesn't even want my help.

**Family?** – I have no family. The ones that don't already think I'm dead wish I was. At least this way I won't be such an embarrassment. I know I'll be doing _them_ a favour.

**Friends?** – Not many left since the accident. The few that are left can't see past the chair. I'll be helping them out, stopping the awkwardness.

**Bling?** – Maybe he'll be upset for a while. But in the long run, I know he'll understand. I know he'll thank me. I can't keep burdening him like this. He says he's my bodyguard; so was Peter. Look how _he_ ended up. Eventually, he'll understand why I can't keep burdening him down. He needs more clients, he's a physiotherapist not my maid. Gone are the days when hovering was just as simple as taking a walk. I can't do that anymore.

And then there's **_Max_**. I doubt she'd even notice. Maybe when she gets hungry enough she'll turn around and wonder where her meal ticket went. Maybe she'll be chagrined that there's nobody to feed her pasta tricolore at 3 in the morning. Maybe. But she'll bounce back. I know she will; she was made that way. Genetically engineered perfection; how can she not move on…

I'm looking at the pistol in my hands. It's lead weight, soothing and reassuring. This is my ticket to the darkness. Opening the clip, I find it empty. As my hand locks on my refills in my bottom drawer, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I freeze, but recognition soon dawns on me. Max. Why is she here, shouldn't she be at Vertes'? Calmly, I place the clips on the table without bothering to turn around.

"Don't." Her voice rings loud and hard in the stillness of the apartment.

Facing her, I school me face into one of innocent confusion. I am aware of her suspicion. She knows what I'm going to do. I shouldn't be surprised, she's always proved herself more perceptive than most. _Never could hide much from her_. "Don't What, Max?"

Barely controlled anger flashes in her eyes before it is rapidly concealed. She's not the only perceptive one, you know. But… why is she angry?

"Don't do it, Logan." Her voice sounds different from before; softer. "Please…" it's almost as if she's begging me. If I didn't know any better, I would think she actually cared. I could almost force myself to contemplate the notion that she might actually love me.

"What is it to you?" My voice is harsh, raspy. I'm tired of this conversation already. I have a job to do, and I plan on doing it.

The silence that meets me speaks louder than any words could. After all, how easy is it to look someone in the eye and honestly tell them they mean nothing to you? But the look in her eyes contrasts the words in the silence. Maybe she does care. If she does, then I know she'll understand. Am I asking too much? Is it being greedy to want the noble way out? Is it so hard for other people to understand…?

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Aiight… this is how it works: if you like it and think it's got potential, holla at me, and I'll make it a regular story with longer chapters. It's only short cos there's a possibility that you guys wont like it much.

But I do have some good news: thanks to quite a few of you guys for your hints on my other story's. they'll definitely be back in business. But you're gonna have to wait for about 2 weeks… I've got 3 killer A-Level exams, and if I fail them, then I'm pretty much fucked. But once their done, its all gone… just me my pen and you…! Right you know the drill: Review to make a sistah smile…


	2. Rescued from the abyss

_Just wanna say thanx to sammi for doing a stella job betaing this... _

_**ABYSS 2**_

I can feel it. It moves through me, whistles through my hair, whispers in my ear. My body is on fire, the tingling feeling as the air whips over my skin is welcomed, the exhilaration appreciated. Nothing can compare to this feeling. This is what I crave: the freedom, the power. Nothing is as invigorating as pushing my baby to her limits as I feel her powerful hum between my legs, as she expertly adjusts to my moves. Nothing feels like this.

Scratch that: Fear does. Only, the chills through my spine are unwelcome and the rapid pulse is unappreciated.

Halfway to Vertes' I felt it, the pang. It lasted for all of three seconds before it was gone, but in its duration I lost the capacity to breathe, to function as a whole. Ignoring it, I slowed my speed, dismissing it as a side effect from the Jace and Vertes fiasco earlier. After all it's not everyday you attempt to outsmart Lucifer while trying to save a pregnant sister who could easily turn on you at any second. No, even X-5's can feel stress. Then I felt it, the hairs on my neck rising, the bitter taste of anticipation burning the back of my throat as my body automatically tries to protect itself. A quick scan of my surroundings tells me nothing. All is as it should be. I know it could easily not be the case. They raised me better than that; taught me to look for the creatures that cry by night, and the evils that lay pestilence at noonday. A quarter through my next scan it takes over. The pang has returned. Only this time I feel I've been stabbed. The ability to draw breath once again evades me as I struggle to control my baby. Swerving off the road, I narrowly miss getting hit by a truck, skidding to a stop on the dirt; the weight of my bike crushes my left leg. The pain in my leg does nothing to dull the sting in my chest. Six minutes have passed and I have still not taken in a breath. My limits have been surpassed and I feel the world start to loose focus… _what's happening to me?_

As quickly as it came, it subsides. The tightening in my chest disappears; the only tell tale sign- my gasping as I try to regain my breath. In my haze of confusion, pain and disorientation, my only lucid thought is of the saviour of the downtrodden, my saviour- _Logan_. I can't explain it. It's an ache, a burning desire. All I know is that at this moment I have an overwhelming need to see him, to hear his voice. Coupled with my desire is the fear. Fear that I may never have that again. Fear that those cerulean blue eyes will never again spark with amusement as their owner laughs at my inability to distinguish between a tomato and a bell pepper.Or darken with that unknown emotion as said owner tells me to be careful. The fear is real, and I don't know where it is coming from.

A thought strikes me. I had always contemplated it, but in every scenario it was because of me. It was because of my reckless carelessness, and it usually involved Manticore in some way shape or form. Never once did I think it would be otherwise, that it might actually be of his own volition.

Standing up, I straddle my baby. Revving her, I know time is against me. Reason expresses caution, warns me of the consequences of an error, but my heart explains the devastation of the truth. Ways of the heart determine the path of reason, and now all my being has one purpose, one objective: _keep Logan safe._ The pain in my leg where my bike crushed it is now a dull ache in the recesses of my mind. If I am unsuccessful in meeting my objective, far greater pain will ensue. I hope I'm wrong, but in 21yrs my instincts have never failed me.

She protests beneath me. I've never pushed her so hard before, getting to Logan is far more important right now. _If this all ends well I have to treat her to a can of motor oil_. I remember the storm in his eyes, saw the raging waters and the rumbling thunder in his mood… but I ignored it. Believed him when he said _"I'll be fine…"_

I thought he was telling me the truth. He had acquiesced to the fact that he wasn't fine at the moment… more than he's ever admitted to in the months I've know him. This should have sent up flags, but… it's Logan; he always pulls through…right? In my heart I knew this time was different, I was allowed to see the despair for a moment, allowed to offer some comfort before the walls came back up. It's one thing to lose you legs once, and have to go through the pain and the feelings of betrayal by your own body, but twice…

Reaching Foggle Towers, short work is made of securing my bike before I race for the elevator. Although I would rather run up the stairs, I know even with my abilities, provided there are no interruptions, I could never make it up the 40 flights of stairs before the lift. _Don't do this Logan._

The fear is crushing me. _"Emotions are weakness"_ Lydecker screams at me; _"Phoney sentimentality will only get you killed"_ Zach taunts. Shutting out the voices, I'm out of the elevator and quietly slipping into the apartment before the doors have a chance to open fully. Hidden behind a screen I quietly watch him; see the despair in his eyes, note the despondence in his posture. He looks at the pistol as a drowning man would regard his life-preserver. I watch him check the empty clip and I start to move. As he reaches into the bottom drawer, my hand closes on his shoulder. He doesn't jump; he just freezes momentarily before continuing with what he was doing.

I don't know what to say to him; don't know if I _should_ say anything. It would be so much easier to just knock him out and take away all the guns. But I understand the futility of such an act; there's more than a million ways to die. Logan's a resourcefully stubborn man who knows how to get what he wants. It's losing it that's the problem…

Even if I wrap him up with bubble-wrap and watch his every move, I know he'll find a way to get past me; all it would take is for me to let my guard down for a second. No, I can't _not_ say anything. I need to fight this, _we_ need to fight this.

"Don't." My own voice rings harsh in my ears, but I don't know what to do. I'm on the edge of desperation, and loosing it now is not a luxury I can afford. It would only serve to push him over the edge and straight into the abyss.

"Don't what, Max?" the look he gives me is one of carefully schooled innocence. One that I have seen millions of times, one that lesser mortals have fallen for; one, that I will never fall for.

Anger flares through my body, licking at my insides before I muster enough control to stamp it down. _Does he take me for a fool? Does he think I'm so incompetent that I wouldn't realise what he is contemplating?_

"Don't do it Logan," My voice is softer, the anger has abated, leaving behind only the pain and hurt. "Please…" now I'm just begging him. Urging him to understand that there _are _people out there who love him. _…one of whom is standing right before him._

His reply is harsh, his voice raspy as he challenges me, "What is it to you?

I look him in the eyes, and am startled at the abject self-loathing that confronts me._ What isn't it to me?_ I've told him how much he means to me before. He knows I look to him as my refuge, as my rock of ages. He helped me work through my fears; took care of me when the seizures threatened to drag me under; showed me the heart beneath the Manticore shield; He gave me a soul. I look at him in astonishment. _How can he not recognize how much he means to me, how can he sit there and think he has nothing left to live for when a by-product of his altruism stands before him?_

"Everything," I whisper. "It means everything." There is defiance in my stance and conviction in my voice as it becomes clearer. I'll make him understand, he has to…

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_Toblerone:_ the abyss thing is meant to represent death, so logan's standing on the edge of the abyss because he's about to die... or at least contemplating it. The rescue me thing is just related slightly to something i heard about pepople that attempt suicide. that they actually want to be saved and rescued... so thats were max comes in... u know like the proverbial avenging angel, slaying his demons... blah blah woof woof...

_aiight... __review to make me smile...finally finished my exams ... nowi just have to wait till august to see if my life will continue or if it will begin to spontaneuosly combust..._


	3. Saved

_**Abyss3**_

I feel my head perk up when she whispers. I'm not quite sure what she said, but… when she repeats herself, a feeling I can only describe as shock moves through me. A part of me wants to believe her, wants to feel the warmth that should come from such a statement, but I know her. I've seen her moves, watched her work her magic on the mighty, seen great men succumb to her whims at the flick of an eyelash, and a cock of those perfectly formed hips.

I will not fall for it.

"I don't need your pity Max. Let me have my way, let me take the noble way out."

"This is not a game, Logan. You can't undo your mistakes." Her voice is angry; loud; she's almost shouting. _Why?_

"Do you think I don't know that?" the bitterness in my tone is sharp. _She's burst the dams. I can't control it anymore _"Do you think it's easy waking up every morning knowing that half of you doesn't work, knowing that you're only half a person? Max, in my dreams I'm a full man; I walk about, I play ball. But then I wake up and I have to face this reality. You don't know what I'm going through, so don't stand there and try to preach to me about some idealistic reality. It's a fucking dragon just standing there waiting to devour me whole. You haven't got a clue"

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"You think my life is perfect. You think I don't have problems." It's more of a statement than a question.

"You're genetically engineered perfection, even on my best day I could never compare to you, much less now. Yes Max, I think you have it easy."

"Get off your high horse, Logan, and stop trying to be a fucking martyr. I have _never_ had it easy, and I never will. I spent the first ten years of my life in hell, where 'playtime' consisted of practicing different ways of killing a man with just my bare hands. After escaping, I spent the next twelve years looking behind me, constantly waiting for the demons to drag me back to that cage, kill me, or do something worse. This is not a pissing contest, I'm not gonna list the different ways you have it easier than I do while you try to come up with counter arguments. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Yes, the world screwed you over. Yes, you lost your legs. But at least be thankful you're alive. That's more than can be said for a lot people. If the universe wanted you dead, you'd have been gone long before now."

"Leave me alone, Max. I'm a full grown man, very much capable of making my own decisions. I know what I have to do, and I'm going to do it." I can't help but scoff. "With the way you're going on, someone might actually be fooled into thinking you really cared."

Something changes in her. The anger shifts, and in its place is something akin to defeat… or maybe acquiescence.

"That's because I do, damnit. I care. I care too much and that's what scares me. That's what bothers me the most. I've felt fear before, when I was trapped under water, the night of the escape, during the seizures. But with you, it's different. I can't explain it. You gave me a life. Before you, I was living on the edge of the world, not really participating, just observing. Then you came along and turned me out. Fucked up my existence, pushed me into the hustle and bustle of a normal life, forced me to open up my heart… You can't make me show you my heart and then drive a dagger through it. It's not fair. I swear to you Logan, if you put a bullet in your head, you might as well put one through mine as well, 'cos I sure as hell ain't gonna continue after you're gone."

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There's moisture in her eyes, emotions are strung out, electricity crackling in the air. He knows what he's hearing, but self doubt is stopping him from actually believing her. She is wearing her heart on her sleeve, giving her self up to him; she knows that after this… There's no going back.

Eye's unsure and voice tentative, he asks, "What are you saying?"

_In this moment, everything will change; they both know it. It's just a question of which direction the balance will sway: for better or for worse?_

She gives a defeated sigh and he's at a loss of what to think. "I… I'm…I'm saying…" she draws in a breath and looks him point blank. "I'm saying I love you, Logan. I've already told you it's not about the chair, it's never been. Don't get me wrong, I'd love for you to get back on feet, but only for the reason that it'd make you happy. I'd still love you if you were a quadriplegic and hooked up to a fucking respirator. Physical perfection is obsolete… it's what's inside that counts." Her eyes are bright and her face is flushed.

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She looks at me, waiting for my reaction. I don't know how to react. Yes, this is what I've always wanted to hear, dreamed of hearing many times. But confronted with the reality, I don't know what to think. I feel stunned. Is it really possible for embodiment of excellence that is Max, to willingly want to be associated with the epitome of imperfection that is I?

I can't say anything; all I can do is just sit and stare. I know she's telling the truth; the defiance in her stance says it all. She's daring me to disbelieve, a part of me wonders what she'd do if I didn't… As dark orbs stare down on me, her heart on her sleeve, all I can do is open my arms; inviting her into my embrace.

She accepts.

As I hold her close to me, overcome with emotion, all I can do is call her name.

"Max."

It's an _"I'm sorry,"_ an _"I love you,"_ a _"please forgive me"_ and so much more. As the sun beings to rise over the broken Seattle, all I can do is hope for a new beginning; _one with Max_.

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She cuddles up to him, breathing him in, confirming his existence, justifying her own. The totality she feels is indescribable; in his arms she is finally free; finally safe. They still have a long way to go… but now they have a beginning.

_There are no words to say, no words to convey this feeling inside I have for you. Deep in my heart, safe from the guards of intellect and reason, I'm at a loss to express my feelings. Deep in my heart, thinking I had a hold, but with feelings this strong, I'm no master of my emotions…_

_**The End.**_

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you guys have to thannk sammy for having this chapter up... cos i had just about given up with it. thanx a bunch sammy.

i have some good news... the next installment of "i'll be your rock... if you let me" is on the way. Sammy and i are just brain storming to see where the story can go. cos althought the main aim is sugary goodness, we do need a plot. the next chapter is already written, just going through the betaing stage.

you guys havea choice- short next chapter, but i'll try regular updates. or. long next chapter, but i may have exausted myself in the process. either way, i have not given up on the story. as long as the word "Completed" does not appear in the summary, then you know all you have to do is constantly nag me, and i'll update it. thats waht Maria656 did...

any way, drop a review to make sistah smile. it does so much for the muse (and the ego)... you can't begin to imagine it.


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